


in the cortex of things imagined

by crookedspoon



Series: Tonight, No Poetry Will Serve [6]
Category: Batman: Arkham Knight
Genre: F/F, F/M, Wordcount: 250
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4220664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Harley couldn't have come up with the surprise awaiting her at Panessa Studios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the cortex of things imagined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Salmon_Pink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/gifts).



> Written for #1 "altered states" at femslash100's drabble cycle: kinks and "Batman: Harley/Joker" at 1mw's [weekend challenge](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/1247402.html?thread=12658090#t12658090).
> 
> Sal, I hope you don't mind me gifting this to you, but as a fellow Harley fan, I thought you might enjoy. ;)

Harley's imagination runs rampant a great deal, but even she couldn't have come up with the surprise awaiting her at Panessa Studios. Three Jokers! Each more dashing than the last. 

"About time you showed up. Open the damn door already, you useless ditz."

If she'd only known they existed. How much grief she could've been spared. How much sooner they could've been together! It wasn't nice of the Bat to keep them to himself. After he took the original from her. Has he never learned to share?

"Harley, honey. I knew you couldn't wait to get me out."

It's like a dream. They're all _him._ She can feel his intensity, his bloodlust, his _genius_ in each of them, waiting to be let loose.

"Ignore those two brutes. I'm the only Joker you need, Harley darling."

The girl-Joker's voice caresses Harley's eardrums, melodious and sultry, yet with an edge of steel. A warm, honeyed feeling spreads through her chest, soothing her rage. This girl, she's _gorgeous,_ with his green hair and pale skin. Harley ignores the blisters, focusing instead on how sweet it is to see a smile on those plump red lips.

"That's right, come to me," girl-Joker purrs.

Harley steps into the cage and reaches for her blindly, pouring a year's worth of pent-up need into her kiss. The girl chuckles, draws Harley close, and dips her ceremoniously. Harley swoons in her arms.

After months of cycling rapidly through manic and depressive episodes, she's finally found her equilibrium again.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the poem "Confrontations" by Adrienne Rich.


End file.
